


Salt

by The Missus (schwarmerei1)



Series: The First Series [4]
Category: E.R.
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:08:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwarmerei1/pseuds/The%20Missus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kerry comes to accept all that is between them<br/>Warning: Explicit description of sex between women, Fisting, Language<br/>Spoilers: Up to 7.16 “Witch Hunt”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salt

  
  


Kerry moaned like she was in labor and was instantly wet.

That sound and her immediate panting focused Kim’s will.  She had to have her, had to take her until Kerry understood at last what Kim had been trying to tell her all this time: that she loved her, needed her, desired her, all in measures that scared the shit out of Kim.  She had to make her understand that the two of them together induced fields in the other that were too powerful for one body to contain.   She needed Kerry to be her equal here, and everywhere, if they were going to survive one another.

“Look at me, baby,” she whispered.  Kerry languidly raised her gaze to Kim’s.  “I want you here,” she said.  Kerry’s eyes glossed.  “Do you get that?”  Kerry nodded.  “Do you, baby?” Kim whispered... “because I really need you to get that... I mean know it in your bones.  I want to lean on you hard.”  Kim kissed her deeply.  “...I want to come to you weak.”  Kim bit her lower lip.  “I want to know you’re beside me and never wonder why.”  Kim slipped her tongue into Kerry’s mewing mouth, as Kerry’s hands slid up her back to sink deep into her shoulders.  “I need you to know where you belong.”  

Her words sent Kerry spiraling into herself.  Kim knew where Kerry’s biggest dragons slept, and she had woken every one of them in less than a minute.  It had been so long, so long since she had clung to Kim’s body, but every cell of her recalled it instantly.  She trembled at the sensation of time compressing into nothing... and Kim felt the shift in her.  She lay Kerry on her back, against the safe solidity of the mattress.  She opened one hand over Kerry’s heart, pressing lightly, yet distinctly, against the hammering there, and then she soothed that hand in smooth slow caresses down to the joint of her left thigh.  

“Look at me, baby.”  

Kerry couldn’t.  She had never grown used to Kim’s attention to her damaged leg, and although she was too overwhelmed this evening to effectively protest, she was also too connected to some primal shame to give it up.  Kim touched her deeply, lightly, intimately there, eventually sinking her lovely fingers into Kerry’s femoral pulse, hypnotized by the pounding of her lifeblood there.  She calmed her a bit with a dizzying kiss, and moved that kiss a centimeter at a time to the side of Kerry’s throat.  

Kim marveled that Kerry’s pulse against her fingertips matched the pulse against her tongue.  Kim felt as though she had the whole of her, body and fragile soul, in her mouth all at once.  She swallowed, sliding her mouth down and her teeth together over a tendon in Kerry’s neck.  Kerry’s small mewl released hot breath into her hair.  She felt Kerry’s open mouth pull some strands together, and Kerry sucked on them wetly.  That sound, with Kerry’s gentle swallow tugging on the roots of the hair she’d captured, reverberated through Kim’s body.  She paused to savor the sensations, attentive to the smallest of Kerry’s motions.  

Kerry pulled her mouth from the fragrances of Kim’s hair, kissing her softly closed eyelids instead.  Kerry’s lips were warm and healing, and Kim wished Kerry would never move on.  She sighed deeply, letting Kerry take the weight of her great golden head, coming to rest at last with her cheekbones on Kerry’s thumbs, her face and throat mapped with deliberate, pliant kisses.  

Kerry tilted Kim into one hand, freeing the other to stroke her back and neck.  Kim moaned in pleasure at the welcome attention, but a deeper groan was growing within her, and she eased Kerry back again.  Kim dropped over her, pinning her deliciously beneath.  She locked a long leg over Kerry’s hips, one knee wedging Kerry’s legs very slightly apart.  Kim rocked along the length of her, skin on skin, warm on warm.  It had been so long.  Kerry moaned.  Her head was thrown back so that Kim could suckle rows of kisses across the torque of Kerry’s clavicles.   

“Look at me, baby,” Kim intoned.  Kerry tried and failed to lift her head past the sensations Kim was causing at her throat.  Kim’s fingers brushing against Kerry’s eyelashes told her when to speak.  “Do you know how badly I want you?”  

Kerry moaned, low, and struggled briefly against Kim.  She shook her head back and forth.  “Tell me,” she gasped.  

Kim’s hand flowed from Kerry’s hip into her boiling wet cunt, stopping short of touching her but snapping Kerry immediately into one tense arch, straining upward against Kim and backward against the bed.  The breath rushed out of her and her fingers dug sharply into Kim.  Kim continued to suckle the pulses of her throat until she sensed a small softening.  She pulled her mouth off her long enough to say “Oh, baby, I wish I could...”  before she lay the flat of her tongue against Kerry’s carotid and slid up to claim her ear.  Kim sucked the salt from the groove of her throat.  She breathed fire and sound into Kerry: “I wish I could.”

Kerry heard the tears in her voice and it was too much for her mind.  She struggled powerfully against the combined weight of Kim’s body and will.  

“Is this what you want?”  Kim whispered thickly, rocking over Kerry with the back of her strong fingertips resting softly, maddeningly softly, on the very edges of Kerry’s labia. 

“Oh, god, yes... m-mnn ... Kim, please...”

“Then open your eyes and tell me.  Look at me, baby.”

Kerry breathed twice more before she was able to comply.  Wet, glossy, dilated eyes, eyes with every earthtoned fleck gathered together under the name of green, met Kim’s.  Kerry felt herself hang on the lapis blue rims of Kim’s dark, open eyes.  ‘Impossible,’ she thought, ‘impossible to be here.. impossible to stay here... impossible to move.’  Kim’s eyes were hypnotic.  Kerry blinked and two tears, thinned by the heat of her desire, fell from the corners.  “Kim,” she said without knowing, “Kim...” and closed her eyes again as Kim’s hand turned over and her fingertips spread slowly outward, opening her, pulling.  Kim stopped, Kerry’s flesh held taut and open, but utterly empty and untouched inside.  Kerry gave a cry of sorrow and frustration so desperate that Kim almost caved; she heard years of grief in her lover’s incoherent plea.  But instead, she kissed Kerry’s clenched eyelids with  dry lips, and blew her mantra softly into Kerry’s ringing ears: “Look at me, baby.”

Kerry couldn’t.  She threw her head from side to side, trying to unpin her body so it could follow, trying to move herself against Kim’s stubbornly still hand.  She gave up in a wracking sob, balling her fists into Kim’s solid and sweating back.  

“Look at me, baby,” breathed Kim against her face.

Kerry opened her uncomprehending eyes, trying to focus on her lover’s face just centimeters from her own.  Kim seemed ethereal, and the combination of gauzy vision against her retinas with the shockingly solid sensation against her labia felt surreal, was almost too much for Kerry’s already-stretched consciousness.  But she forced her eyes to focus on one of Kim’s, and forced them to lock open there.  She lived through three more breaths in that state, before she understood what Kim was saying.

“Do you want me inside you, Kerry? Just tell me, baby.  You can have everything, everything you ask for.  Anything, baby.  Anything...  Just look at me and tell me, baby, tell me what you need.  I’ve got you, I’ve got you, just tell me what you need,” Kim soothed to her as she rocked.  

Kerry felt herself fall a little more apart as she mouthed, “I need... I need....”  Then fresh tears came, and she could not go on.  

“Yes, yes you do, baby.  I know, honey, I know how you need.  Just tell me, baby.  Trust me one more time.”  Kim gazed at her swimming, still-open eyes with infinite compassion and incarnate desire.  She flicked the back of her index fingernail quickly around the circumference of her other fingers.  Kerry screamed as her cunt clutched at nothing, seeking, starving for Kim.  Her pupils dilated even more, the rim of color intense and thin, her hold on reality slipped further away with every subtle grind of Kim’s body all over hers.  Her fists came open and her hands closed into Kim’s meaty shoulders, and she could not close her mouth against her urgent need to breathe.  

Kim pulsed her fingertips into Kerry’s weeping hot flesh.  Her gaze never wavered as each strong press pushed fresh tears from Kerry’s helpless eyes.  

“Tell me, baby.  Tell me what you deserve.  Tell me... “  

Kerry’s conscious mind begged her to tell its truth of shame, to answer “Nothing...,” but the truest part of her, that precious center of her that Kim had glimpsed in rare and glorious moments, that elemental Kerry with whom Kim was hopelessly in love, had responded to Kim’s labored and constant call.  “Inside...” Kerry gasped at last, losing what visual focus she had managed.  “Please... inside...  inside me.  Please.  Full of you, please... Kim....”  Her eyes closed as the incoherent words left her, and Kim did not heed her plea.  Kerry was lost, beyond help, falling, sick... but Kim’s iron grip caught the back of her neck, pulling her eyes open again.  Kim’s expression was incandescent, eyes convecting, sparking and smoky hot.  Kerry could do nothing but meet them.  Kim’s voice was tenor, carnal and near violence with lust and depth: “Yes,” she said.

And Kerry felt Kim pull her hand together, freeing her desperate flesh into the new awareness of Kim’s entry, all at once, through her spasming vulva and clutching muscles.  Kerry wanted to break open, wanted to come apart across the vector of Kim’s advance, but her body embraced all of her, each wave of her pent-up response pulling Kim’s hand further and further inside her, swallowing her and searching out more.  She cared for nothing, existed only as a cuff of sparking nerves, no history, no future, nothing but now, now, and the one tangible fact of Kim’s presence, impossibly inside her at last.   She wept as her cunt wept, copiously, freely.  

Kim took her weight on her free arm to allow Kerry a new space of abandon and hope.  Kerry followed her body upward, barely breaking contact until she was overcome with the desire to rock down hard on Kim’s hand, driving herself up over her wrist and onto her forearm.  She felt she could never soothe the full rawness of the ache Kim had found in her.  Kerry wailed as it came clear to her that she would never have tears enough to do either of them justice.  She slipped one hand from the anchor of Kim’s back to weakly grip Kim’s thrusting forearm, feeling the long thin bundles of muscles twitch as Kim’s hand swept through her soul in circles, now against her cervix, now opening up against her pelvic bones.  ‘Impossible,’ she wanted to scream, railing against the three dimensions of her body; suddenly they were insufficient to describe this new world she was being born to.  What came through her aching throat was a low keening wail, full of grief and love and despair and acceptance, leaving nothing of her that Kim had not touched as the primal sound left her body in great wracking notes.  

Kim had wept softly through it all, so full of love and praise she was sure her heart had already broken.  Even as the animal in her craved more and more of Kerry’s fresh and tender body, the lover in her wanted to tell this woman, even if just this once, who she was to her.  Kerry’s defenses were so powerful, and they both were still smarting from some very real hurts.  Kim needed Kerry to understand who she was to her, she felt that need more keenly than any physical desire, and she truly, in her heart, believed that if she could ever just _make_ Kerry understand and accept this one salient fact, then everything else they were could hang off the armature of that one simple truth. 

She had never taken Kerry so far from herself, had never driven her so close to where Kim knew she could go, was born to go.  Kim was drunk on the trust Kerry had laid down for her, how truly, utterly naked Kerry had let Kim strip her.  She wept huge tears for what Kerry was risking, rocking deep on her cuddled hand, taking her inside, clenching over and over around her gracefully driving forearm.  Kerry was helpless before her, and Kim was overcome with awe and love.  She could have sworn she’d come herself as her hand had gone through Kerry’s defenses, certainly, her own cunt wracked over and over as Kerry called for her and clutched for her and thrashed for her.  Kerry had struggled against her own fear and her own shame, giving into her own desires; she had utterly accepted Kim on the terms that Kim gave her.  Kerry had given herself over outright to Kim, and to herself; in essence, to their future together.  Kim was overcome with gratitude, and as Kerry’s body began at last to quiet; she recognized what had happened between them as a prayer to what could be.  

Kerry was worn out and wrung clean, her body more exhausted than sated, though truly, she was both.  Her hands clutched for Kim, finding her hair first, then searching out her face.  She brushed her fingers over Kim’s chin and lips, blindly recognizing her.  Kim sucked on her fingers like a calf, devoted.  Kerry allowed her, then pulled her fingers loose along her palate.  Her hands asked a question by pulling weakly and briefly at Kim’s shoulders: “come here,” her body begged.  Kim answered, moving up as far as she could, being buried into Kerry up to her forearm.  Kim opened her hand inside as she shifted to cover all she could of Kerry, reveling in Kerry’s gasped and instantaneous response.  Aware of just how much she had already asked of her, she didn’t begin again.

Instead, Kim spoke to her lovingly, kindly, praising her, asking her for one last effort; Kerry did her best to comply, mustering small pushes to rock Kim’s hand down from her, tiny bit by tiny bit.  Kerry’s aftershocks were still regular, still suckling at Kim’s hand; and each of them made Kim’s own vulva clench with familiarity and desire.  But the tiny pushes had grounded Kerry, on a task at last, so that when it came time to move Kim’s hand out and away from her, they were well in synch again.  Kim moved down her body, murmuring soothing nothings to her lover.  She slowlicked her hopelessly swollen clit a few times, exceedingly softly and gently.  Kerry moaned hoarsely, raising her hips, and she bore down hard against Kim’s mouth and hand.  Kim pulled her mouth away to murmur encouragement, and Kerry lost herself in the new sensation of birthing Kim’s hand out of her.  Pushing felt so good to her.  It felt healing and powerful and female in a primal sense that Kerry had never been privy to; Kerry felt remade.  

Kim was in awe of Kerry’s quiet dignity, in awe of the power of this body she had once thought she knew.  Kim was silent as Kerry bore down again, twice, three times... and she slipped the bulk of her hand out, leaving her long fingers inside a bit longer, to be there for Kerry as her body recognized its own emptiness with shock and sadness.  Kerry moaned and came again softly, one tear escaping.  

Free to let go, Kim wept frankly into Kerry’s steaming flesh, overcome with joy and grief and tenderness, unable to form the words to speak to her lover.  Kerry smoothed her hair and let her rest there, dedicating herself to this woman, covered with her scent, who had claimed her so thoroughly as her own.  

Eventually, Kim calmed and she gathered herself, still reluctant to break off her touch with Kerry.  Kissing her tenderly as she took her fingers away, Kim hauled herself up the bed to take Kerry into her arms.  She wanted to speak, to tell Kerry what had happened, to ask her something, anything.  Kerry held her gaze and shushed her with a pair of fingers against her sticky lips.  “N-mhm,” she shook her head slightly as she pulled Kim’s weary head to her warm breast and held her safe there, stroking her hair.  “Tomorrow.”  

Kim heard the word in both ears, one through the cooling air, in Kerry’s soft voice.  The other came through Kerry’s chest, low and rumbling, passionate.  Her mind and her heart both believed her, and she let herself slip into a blessedly dreamless sleep.


End file.
